


The Impossible

by Evax3



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Based on True Events, Fanart, Gendry is the MVP, Jon almost dies because that's kinda his thing, Multi, Natural Disasters, POV Alternating, Robb & Dany are besties, The Impossible (Movie), Theon & Arya have to team up because they're both socially incompetent and that's fun to write, Tsunami 2004, all ships and characters get equal screen time, tear them apart to unite them in the most heart-warming way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-17 14:27:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29842872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evax3/pseuds/Evax3
Summary: It was going to be a family thing, a chance to strengthen their bond, at least that was the idea. But when a tsunami hits the coasts of Southeast Asia on December 26, 2004 after an earthquake, Theon, Robb, Jon, Dany, Arya and Gendry find themselves in the middle of the disaster and the romantic vacation turns into a fight for survival.---If you're looking for some heavy drama with a super touching happy ending - this might be the fic for you!
Relationships: Arya Stark/Gendry Waters, Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen, Theon Greyjoy/Robb Stark
Comments: 21
Kudos: 59





	The Impossible

**Author's Note:**

> Those of you who read some of my fics know the one thing I really, **really** love to write (and read btw) are the heart-stopping last minute reunions at the end of a story. Those moments when you think all is lost, that they’ll never get each other, that there’s no HEA, but then, out of nowhere, they do get each other after all!! It's just the best, isn't it? It's heartwarming and tearful and makes you clap your hands and scream at whichever screen you’re looking at.
> 
> So, exactly one of these moments offers the film _'The Impossible'_. I swear, it's the perfect moment of horrible drama turns into pure bliss! Naomi Watts, Ewan McGregor and Tom Holland (being still a baby back then) give such a deep emotional performance in this and what also makes it even sweeter is that the story is actually based on the real experiences of María Belón and her own family. So after watching it I just **had** to adopt it. 
> 
> Also, because this is mainly about the big reunions at the end our couples will not spend much time together until then! But the wait is worth it, big promise. All three ships will get an individual soppy ending, as they deserve! :)  
> 

* * *

## The Impossible

**THEON**

_26th December 2004,_

_8:57 am_

  
  


He takes the small plastic bag offered to him with a wry smile, and when she smiles back at him in return, he can't help but wink at her, because it's just too easy. Or at least it should be, if it wasn't for the elbow slammed between his ribs with more force than necessary.

“Ouch, fuck!” Theon snaps his head while he rubs the arching spot with his index and middle fingers. When he lifts his eyes he finds Arya's frown. “What?!”

“I'm sure you know.”

“Robb doesn't mind,” he mutters as they make their way through the crowd, back to where they left the bike.

“Just because he says nothing doesn't mean it doesn't bother him.”

He rolls his eyes. 

Of course, she doesn't get it. Like no one else gets it, the nature of their relationship. Because no one understands why they became friends in the first place, why Robb wants to be friends with _Theon_. Not that anyone cares how it is the other way around.

For Theon himself, it's still a miracle in itself, but he's not questioning it anymore. He's not asking how it's possible that Robb wants even more than that. Because if he's honest with himself, he always wanted it too, for the rest of their lives, if Robb says yes. 

But unfortunately it's a question that will officially make him become part of this family. Whether he wants it or not, they come as a pack. And because of that, he at least has _to try_ to get along with Robb's siblings. Which is more of a challenge than asking the actual question that forces him to do so.

“What are your plans for today?” Theon says then to change the subject. 

To his disappointment, Arya keeps her frown.

Why is he even surprised? He should have gotten used to this look by now. She and Jon have always been like this. Because they still think he means trouble, because they _still_ don't trust him. Which is why _this_ is even more odd, that he finds himself on vacation with these two, of all people. 

To strengthen the family bond, Robb has said, like he knew what he's up to and this is part of the deal. But the more time passed, the more he fears that his plan won't work out.

“Gendry and I want to watch the sword fight down at the beach,” Arya answers after another minute of brooding. “We talked about it yesterday, remember?”

Theon nods. “Right. So it’s going well with you guys?”

“The fuck do you care?” She has her arms crossed in front of her chest and gives him a look that says, _'I'm ready for a fight if you want it.'_

But he doesn't. Instead he clicks his tongue and rolls his eyes, _again_. At least he tried. 

They take the rest of their walk in agreed silence till they've almost reached the hill. Here the stands around them are no longer small, but with a little more space and narrow alleys in between. 

Little is going on in general, at least compared to yesterday, when they visited the market in the afternoon. Most tourists here enjoy a long breakfast, sleep in. Maybe they should have done that too. Being here _with her_ , it’s definitely the last favor he does Robb on this vacation. 

Theon thinks about all the ways his boyfriend can make it up to him, while he reaches into his pocket, fishing for the keys. 

But then he stops.

It comes from afar and makes him pause immediately. First it's only a low grumble. Then there are screams. And stomping, a sound that increases in volume as it’s moving up the other side of the hill. 

They both lift their heads only to see a sudden mass of people running towards them. The first thing he notices is the panic in their eyes.

“What the hell?” Arya leaves his side and takes the few meters left so she’s able to look past the peak. 

Theon follows her, goosebumps already forming on his bare arms. He turns his gaze from right to left, watching the people rushing past them. But when he finally reaches her, sees what Arya sees, he stops in his tracks. 

He's frozen, his eyes widen and his mouth drops open. “Oh fuck.”

The wave is gigantic, at least 6 meters high. And it's fast, too fast. Like it's a movie, they stand there, watch from their spot as it moves closer at rapid speed. Coming from the beach, it takes everything with it: houses, palm trees, people. It swallows everything like a monstrous beast. 

His survival instinct kicks in before his mind can process the thoughts. He drops the bag with the stupid t-shirt he bought for Robb and instead reaches for Arya’s arm, grabs her hard and drags her to the bike. 

His whole body’s shaking except for his hands as he puts the key in the ignition.

“Hold on tight,” he says, not bothering with the helmet as he starts the engine, “whatever happens, don't let go.” 

She nods with the same fear in her eyes that is probably written all over his own face. As the screams get louder, the crowd gets denser, and the grumbling behind them gets closer, quicker than Theon would like.

But they can't drive, too many people in front of them. He presses the horn, but no one makes room. 

“Move the fuck aside!” he yells but no one takes any notice of them.

“Theon!” Arya calls him and when he looks over his shoulder, his heart stops. Panic finally reaches him, closes around his throat and blocks his view. 

It’s going to kill them. 

And then he gives a shit about the people, about the stalls, about the streets. His only thought is to get out of here as fast as possible. Arya's grip tightens around his stomach as he speeds up, zigzagging past everything that gets in their way. 

Past hundreds of people.

People who get caught by the wave only a few seconds later.

* * *

**GENDRY**

_9:03 am_

  
  


A few splashes land on his skin as Robb drops down on the towel next to him. He shakes his red curls like he’s one of the wolves this whole family loves so much. After just a few days in the sun, his whole skin is covered in freckles and right there it's hard to tell he's her brother, if it weren't for the grin and the shape of their eyes. 

“Do you think they get along?” he asks as he dries off. 

Gendry only lifts his eyes. “Honest answer?”

Robb chuckles, “yes please.”

“Pretty sure they won't.” He reaches for the water, takes a sip and then offers it to him. “They never have and never will. So… why you care all of a sudden?”

“What do you mean?”

“Come on, Arya told me the trip was your idea.”

The towel lands in the sand beside them as Robb lies down, closes his eyes and sighs deeply. As if he’s carrying a burden that is a bit too heavy. “You can keep a secret?”

Gendry nods. Then Robb turns, props his head on his elbow so they’re back facing each other. He bites his lip as if to suppress the smile that is about to spread across his mouth. But he fails miserably. “I want to ask him to marry me.”

He’s not sure what to say to that except, “wow.”

“I know,” Robb sighs, finally reaching for the offered bottle. 

“Are you sure?”

“One hundred percent.”

“When?”

“On New Years, it's … it’s kind of an anniversary.” Another deep sigh leaves him as he shifts, his gaze now directed upward at the few white clouds above them. “I was really hoping this vacation would somehow bring them closer together.”

A sound leaves Gendry's lips that is part amusement, part pity. “Sorry to disappoint you, but as you know, Arya hardly likes anybody.”

“She likes you though,” Robb points out and now it’s Gendry who’s unable to contain his smile. “And actually, it's more Jon I'm worried about. The two have been at war with each other since kindergarten.”

“Well,” he says, “could have worked. No one knew he intended to spend the entire vacation behind closed doors.”

“They’re not quite as closed as they should be.” A slight blush appears on Robb's cheeks and it's enough for him not to ask further. 

Instead he thinks back to the time when he and Arya were just the same. The summer when he realized that she's not just the daughter of his father's best friend. That she's also a woman, one he desires deeply. One who makes him laugh, whose touches he can never have enough of. That with her he can be who he really is. 

It was the summer he realized that it’s not only her friendship he’s seeking and that he loves her in any way possible. Now, two years later, many things have changed, but not this.

His gaze is fixed on the horizon while his thoughts circle around all the memories they share. There are lots of moments they’ve experienced together since then, happy moments and sad ones too. So it takes a while for his eyes to realize what he’s actually looking at and for his mind to understand what lies ahead.

Then he sits up. 

“What’s wrong?” Robb asks, disturbed by his sudden movement.

He stretches out his arm. “See those waves up there? They look a bit rough don't you think?”

Robb's eyes follow his lead till they find the spot he points at and a frown spreads across his forehead, one that Gendry knows all too well. “I thought it was odd too that the water has receded so far. As if it were low tide, although it’s not actually the time for that.”

Without flinching, they straighten up and watch the waves as they increase in size. A wind comes up, as if something’s brewing, something threatening. And it's incessantly approaching. The hairs on Gendry's arms rise as his eyes remain fixed on the ocean.

“Maybe we should get off the beach,” Robb suggests, but he too makes no move to actually do so.

They stare spellbound at the white wall coming ever closer, like an avalanche rolling toward them. Gendry expects it to get smaller every second, for it to finally break, to run out, to become one with the blue water surface again. But it doesn't happen. 

“Come on, let's go.” He has a hard time taking his eyes off it, as he finally starts to pack up their few things. Though Robb lingers a second longer, keeps looking at the danger coming closer with his brows still narrowed. But in the end he joins him and puts on his sneakers before he gets to his feet, throwing the towel over his shoulder. 

They take the path from the beach back to the road with quick steps, though still without actually rushing. Gendry is carrying their backpack, Robb wears only his trunks and shoes. They hear the sounds from afar, but it's not until they're through the bushes that they see the chaos. 

No second later they're standing right in the middle of it.

People run past them, parents with crying children on their hands, dragging them behind. A woman loses her flip flop, but she leaves it on the path and keeps running with only one, without a backward glance.

“What’s going on?” Robb asks no one in particular.

“Tsunami!” a man screams at them without stopping.

At that they exchange one last look. And then they run as well.

* * *

**DANY**

_9:07 am_

  
  


The mattress squeaks beneath them, then bounces slightly as Jon rolls to the side. Breathing heavily, a thin sheen of sweat covers his bare skin. 

“Fuck,” he says and Dany can only agree with him. Her legs are still shaking as she turns, reaching for the box of tissues on their neighstand.

When she looks back at him she sees him smiling. “You okay?”

“More than that.” 

Jon stretches out his arm and she gladly accepts the invitation. He tastes of salt and smells of sweat and musk as she nuzzles her nose against his chest, pressing her lips onto the muscle just above his heart.

“Do you think they're angry that we didn't join them?”

“Let them,” Jon says before pressing a kiss on the top of her damp hair.

And actually, it doesn't bother her much either. She sees Robb often enough at work, but her boyfriend far too rarely in the short time before the holidays. And she missed him; his warmth, his kisses. Their relationship is still too young for her to remain confident when they’re separated for longer than a week. 

She puts an arm across his chest and squeezes him closer, just to make sure they're together now. And to assure that he is with her and will stay there.

On her back she feels his fingers wandering, drawing little patterns before they land at the end of her spine, just above her butt. She snickers, “I can't do it again even if I wanted to.”

“You sure?” He grins at her as he flips them. Now she's on her back and he's hovering above her, black curls falling down and frame his face. Dany reaches for a strand and brushes it behind his ear. 

She smiles, “for now at least.”

Tough she can't help but sigh as he places his lips on hers, as she tastes herself on his tongue and smells their sex in the stubble of his beard. And despite her refusal, they linger like that for a while, with their legs tangled, exchanging lazy kisses.

Only the growl of Jon's stomach is what finally interrupts them.

“How about breakfast?” Dany suggests and he agrees with a nod.

“You go take a shower, I'll see what's in the fridge.”

Despite the nice deal, she stays lying there for a second longer. Just to enjoy the view and watch him stretch, how the muscles in his back flex and how he presents his best asset when he finally stands up. 

“I really am a lucky woman,” she mumbles, getting a wry look over his shoulder for it. 

“What was that?”

“Oh nothing,” she grins, slips into her panties and then reaches for his shirt that he himself was about to put on. 

So in just his shorts he takes the few steps down to the kitchen and Dany stays upstairs watching him until he's gone. 

And she really wishes every day could be like this one, just the two of them, falling asleep together, waking up together. Maybe that's the sign they're ready to take the next step, back home. Maybe she'll ask him to move in with her.

On the window sill, one of the mussel shells suddenly begins to sway. It's only one at first, but soon the others start dancing too. Dany moves closer, tilts her head. This close, she's able to see that the whole window is vibrating.

“Jon?” she calls, but she gets no response. 

Something is wrong. 

Stretching her head, she sees a huge flock of birds pass by, and as she puts her hand to the wall, she notices the whole house is shaking. “Jon!”

“Just a second.” 

“Something is wrong here!”

“What?” He reappears at the foot of the stairs, a box of eggs in one hand and an orange in the other, “what did you say?” 

“The house is shaking, I think it's an earthquake.”

He puts the eggs down on one of the steps of the stairs, the orange next to it. But it does not remain lying. Suddenly, the floor beneath them shifts so violently that it bounces and rolls past Jon's feet back into the kitchen. The carton of eggs topples over and both Dany and Jon stagger, trying to keep their balance. 

With her arms outstretched, she tries to stay on her feet, swinging from right to left, seeing too late what is suddenly coming at them. 

The palm trees that lead from their house to the beach break one by one to the ground while the water rushes towards them. A brown wall, higher than the peak of the roof, with a violence, a force that strikes everything down. 

Her eyes flit down. 

He doesn't know what's coming, he can't see it. 

“What’s happening?” he yells, the same moment she screams his name.

Then with a huge crash, the water breaks through the front door, taking Jon with it.

  
  


* * *

**ROBB**

_9:31 am_

  
  


They’re almost back at the house, it’s roof already in sight, as the wave reaches them, as the wave rolls over them. One second Gendry’s beside him, running, panting and then there’s nothing, only darkness. A huge force is pulling at him, tearing at his limbs, pushing the air out of his lungs.

Robb feels as if he is being hurled through the air, losing orientation, all sight, all hearing. He can no longer tell up from down, while his ears start ringing from the roar of the water. He keeps trying to break through the surface, to see where he is, but he is pushed down over and over again. 

Until he is finally slammed against something hard, colliding with his side at a terrible angle. And he screams in pain but it’s muffled by the sounds around him. Still, he feels it as the bone in his wrist breaks, feels the crack.

He clings to the thing he has bumped into with his legs and arms. A tree, as he then realizes when he can pull himself up with all his might. 

His head is suddenly out of the water, he can breathe, coughs and gasps and then screams again, screams out of desperation and for his life. They're no words, just a horrible sound full of fear. Still no one’s there to help him. Around him is only chaos and water, dense brown water full of debris.

His skin is covered with cuts and bruises, his wrist throbs heavily. Yet he grits his teeth, forces himself to climb up, out of the floods, away from tables and cars and all these objects that could hit him at any second.

Somehow he manages, settles on one of the thicker branches as the next wave reaches him. He doesn't dare to look. Instead, he squeezes his eyes shut as tightly as he can. Trembling, he holds on to the trunk while the tree begins to sway. 

Fortunately the roots are deep enough. 

And after another heavy breath Robb risks another glance. 

The only things still standing are a few thick palm trees, most of the houses have completely collapsed. Boards and furniture float past him in the brown water. Here and there he can make out a car, sees also a few limbs and heads, but no one’s looking up. 

Until suddenly he sees her, her silver hair half red, covered in blood, but her eyes awake as she clings to a beam. 

”Daenerys!” he yells, sees he raising her head, “DAENERYS!”

“ROBB!”

There are only a few seconds in which she drifts past him, but can't reach him, so he has to make a decision. 

Without any further thought, he climbs down, goes back into the floods. She is a little way in front of him, but keeps looking back, calling his name. And he stretches out his arm for her, but she’s too far away.

“Hold on!” he tells her, while more things bump against his legs, cutting his skin. 

It takes until the flow subsides. When the next thick tree is in sight, she lets go and swims over to it. Desperately she reaches for his hand. And despite the pain, Robb doesn't even flinch as he finally wraps his arms around her. They both cling to the trunk and onto each other.

Relief breaks in over him and he allows it, swallows hard and holds her, just holds her. 

They drift like this till they're able to feel the ground again beneath their feet. Then he's able to lean back, to brush the hair from her forehead and inspect the cut on her temple. 

“It’s not deep,” he says, more so to himself. 

“Something hit me when the window broke, when the wave reached the house, as it crashed... my god,” she starts sobbing. “Jon, he... I saw him and… I don't know where he is.”

Tears roll down her cheeks and Robb feels his own throat tighten at the thought of his brother. At the thought of Gendry, whom he has lost, of Arya and Theon, wherever they may be. 

“It's okay,” he tells her, even though it’s obviously not, “we'll find them… we'll... we'll find them.” 

* * *

**ARYA**

_4:14 pm_

  
  


“Have you seen this man? Robb Stark, have you seen him? Hey–” 

She sees Theon grab a man by the shirt, not for the first time, shoving his cell phone right in his face. “Have you seen him?”

The man pushes him off hard, with enough force that Theon stumbles backwards against another couple, who are also in the middle of filing out some forms for recognition. 

“What's wrong with you, asshole?” he yells after him and Arya takes this as a reason to intervene.

The hospital is filled to the brim. Every second, new cars arrive, overloaded with the injured, with the dead, with desperate people in search of their loved ones. It is noisy and hectic, and Theon's panic really doesn't help, even if she understands him, even if she feels the same way. She just shows it differently. 

"Come here." She grabs his hand and pulls him away from the entrance, away from the people until they arrive at a small wall. There she sits down on the ground and pulls him down with her. 

“What if he’s already here?” he starts but she interrupts him.

“Shut up.”

His whole body is tense and he's shaking, from adrenaline and also from fear. She doesn't really know what to do, she has never been very good in such situations. Back when her father died, the only thing she did was to hide. Now, unfortunately, that is not an option. 

Without much further thought, Arya shifts, intertwines their fingers, and holds his hand. Her grip is firm as she places them in her lap, puts the other on top as to make sure that he stays there. Then she closes her eyes. 

She senses how Theon wants to protest, but then decides against it. He gives in, and slowly calms down. 

“Thanks for saving us,” she says, though without looking up.

He gives her no answer. Instead they sit there for a while, until she hears a soft sniff besides her shoulder. 

“If you cry I'll hit you.”

“I’m not crying,” he replies with his voice so husky as if he’s trying to swallow a big knot in his throat. She can't guarantee anything if he really starts sobbing. Fortunately, he spares her.

Afterwards, they continue with the silence and just watch the goings-on around them. Arya's hand is sweating and Theon certainly feels it too, yet he doesn't let go of it. They both keep holding on, even when they are later offered a bottle of water and some food, protein bars, which they both reluctantly force down. 

The sun is already low, the evening is approaching. None of them know where to spend the night, there is no question that their bungalow is no longer standing. They will try to find shelter in one of the camps they are building around the hospital right that second. But none of them feels the urge to move.

When Theon speaks again, his voice sounds cold and alien. She has never heard it like this and somehow it scares her more than before when she thought he was going to collapse. “You think he’s dead?”

“No.” It's the truth, she doesn't believe it. “He is strong, they all are. They make it.”

“What makes you think that?”

That's when Arya turns her head. “Honestly? If I had to bet on which one of us is most likely to get killed doing something like that, I would have said it’s you. Yet here we are.”

He emits a slight snort, something that might be a chuckle, at least it sounds more like his old self. She is grateful for that. And finally tries to concentrate only on that, on Theon's hand, on his breath. Tries not to think about her brothers, not about Gendry, not about the screams, the wailing around her. 

She tries to think only of what has kept them alive.

* * *

**JON**

_6:22 pm_

  
  


When he opens his eyes again he is on the back of a truck and there’s a man lying next to him whom he doesn't know. Above them, leaves flit by, palm trees, in between the sky that slowly turns orange, showing that the sun is setting.

Each hole they pass causes a sharp pain to erupt in his chest, so violent as if someone is twisting a knife between his ribs. And there, slowly, his memory comes back.

Pictures keep flashing up in front of his eyes. They were at the bungalow. He was about to make breakfast. Dany was standing at the top of the stairs, screaming his name. The earth was shaking. Then a crash. Then darkness. 

He was thrown through the air, through the walls along with the water. There'd been so much water, above him, around him. He had swallowed it, tons of it, and debris and other things, his lungs were breaking. Then he lost consciousness for the first time.

When he’d woken up again, his body was on fire. Blood had run down his face, a metal rod had stuck out of his body. He had thought he was dead. He should have been dead. 

But somehow he's not. 

Someone has saved him. Someone who's probably driving this truck at the moment. 

A cold hand touches his fingers and Jon winces, then moans loudly in pain because of the movement. 

“Good,” says the man beside him, “just wanted to make sure you're still alive.”

He is somehow, but he can't say how much.

“What's your name?” the man asks and Jon wants to answer, but all that comes out of his mouth is a miserable croak.

“It's okay, save your breath.” 

So he does, does nothing except that, just tries to keep breathing. Because by some miracle, he still can do that.

As he lies there he thinks of Dany, whether she's alone or hurt or alive at all. Maybe she also got hurt like him, maybe she's still somewhere out there, scared, waiting for help. Maybe she needs him.

He tries to move again but it's impossible.

Then the car stops and hands take the board on which he's lying. He groans again, squeezing his eyes shut tightly as they carry him away. Even if he would like to see where he is, what is around him, he can't do anything but bite his tongue, stifle the screams. There is nothing but the sharp pain, the rest of the sounds around him only muffled, as through water. 

How ironic.

Then he's put down. Someone grabs his legs, then his shoulders. And there Jon screams, unable to suppress it any longer, as he is finally placed on a bed. He gets an injection. The shirt that someone has put on him is cut apart. A liquid is poured over his wound that burns like fire.

Then there's darkness.

This time it remains longer, envelops him like a thick cloak. It is warm and safe and he wants to stay there, doesn't want to go back to a world full of screams and pain. But he has to, he has no choice. 

The light is different, brighter, like a neon lamp pointed at him. He blinks a few times as someone gently touches his cheek. Black eyes look down at him. He knows the face, dark skin framed by wild black hair. 

“Theon?” he rasps. And even if he still doesn't sound like he used to, he's glad somehow he still gots his voice.

“Oh thank God. Arya? Arya! Over here,” Theon shouts, and then there's another face above him, just as familiar. Some brown hair, gray eyes, it's almost like he looks into a mirror. And she seems to be as tired and exhausted as he feels, but to all appearances unharmed. 

Jon wants to raise his hand to reach for her, but she pushes him down, holding him tight with a sharp grip. “It's okay,” she says, “we're here.”

“Where's the rest?” His sister looks away, but leaves her hand where it is. So he glances back at Theon. At least he withstands his gaze. “Are they dead?”

His expression promises the worst, as if it's causing him the greatest pain just to think about it. “We don't know yet,” Theon swallows, “till now, you're the only one they've found.”

* * *

**DANY**

_27th December 2004,_

_1:07 am_

  
  


Thousands of stars shine above them as they reach the camp. It's not much, a bunch of people sitting around or near a fire, wounded and wrapped in blankets. Still, she feels a spark of hope, relief that they made it too. And that's thanks to Robb. She doesn't know what she would have done without him.

They had walked all day after the water had slowly settled, walked through mud and past destroyed houses, bodies of animals, women, men and children. But the determination in his gaze was what had driven them forward. It was a bit like having a part of Jon with her, just as stubborn, just as strong. Stark men can’t get down by anything so easily. 

She still tries to hold on to this thought so as not to drown in her grief. 

Someone puts a bundle in her hand; a blanket, a bottle of water, chocolate and some bandages. 

“Thank you,” she murmurs and even to her own ears her voice sounds incredibly foreign. 

“Come on.” Robb strokes her arm, just lightly. “Let’s get some rest.”

They choose a seat a little further away from the people, where she can take care of his wounds, the hand and the deep cut on his leg, then her own. With his free arm, he wraps the blanket around them, trying to share their body heat as best they can. Dany puts her head on his shoulder and he his on top of hers.

“Stop thinking about it,” he tells her after a while, but it's useless.

“I can't… every time I close my eyes I see him.”

“Then keep them open, just watch the stars.” He reaches around her shoulder to gently place a finger under her chin, directing her gaze up to the sky. “When we were little we loved that, Jon especially. When the night was clear I always knew it was only a matter of time before he'd knock on my door and then pull me out into the garden.”

“Aren't you afraid?” she whispers. 

Robb lets out a shaky breath into her hair. “Of course I am. But we have to keep hoping until we’re sure.”

“Do you think Theon is fine?”

At this, Robb chuckles softly. “I don't know why, but yes I think so. Most people underestimate him, but I think he can bear more than most of us. I'm more worried about those who are with him to be honest. He's... he gets a little intense when he's scared.”

“You know him well, don’t you?”

“Like he's a part of myself.”

“I wish I knew Jon that way.” And at that moment she can't suppress the tear that rolls down her cheek. It is only one, and she forces herself to leave it at that, but still...

“Hey.” Robb turns her gaze up with the little strength he has left, so she’s looking at him as he’s looking down at her with his deep blue eyes. “You will, I know it.”

When he presses a kiss to her forehead, holding her tight, making her feel safe, she lets him and finally closes her eyes. It's hard but it works, blocking out the images, no water, no debris. Only a smile, a promise, and Jon’s kiss lingering on her skin.

* * *

**GENDRY**

_10:12 am_

  
  


“Come on man, we have to go,” someone says behind him but he shakes his head.

“Just give me a second please.” He cries out in frustration and pain as he tries with all his power to lift the heavy sheet aside, only to realize that there is nothing underneath but more rubble and mud. 

Then there's a hand on his shoulder. “We have to move on, there's nothing here.”

But stubbornly he shakes him off. His dirty hands buried deep in his dark hair, he turns in a circle and takes in their bungalow, or rather what's left of it, which is not very much. Here and there he can recognize a familiar piece of clothing, Robb's suitcase in which he found the small box containing the secret he entrusted to him just before they were separated. 

He will give it to Theon if he has to, but actually he hopes that Robb can do that himself.

“ARYA!” Gendry yells again. He's almost certain that she's not here, that they were still at the market and not already on their way back. “ARYA!”

“We have to take the others to the hospital.” The guy doesn't sound as understanding as before. Gendry knows that they are all tense, that their nerves are on edge and that he can't strain them any longer. 

So he finally nods and follows him back to the car. 

He takes his place next to Shireen again, putting her back on his lap the way he did during the rest of the ride. She, like him, has as if by some miracle survived the whole thing unharmed, only with a few scratches on her skin and face.

At the moment the wave hit them, they had almost been back at the house, Robb just a few steps behind him. Gendry remembers putting one foot in front of the other and then suddenly being enveloped in complete darkness. He was tossed around, pushed further. Yet somehow he hadn't collided with anything. 

The water had dragged him along until at some point he had ended up on the wall of a house. Pressed against it until the force had subsided. It was pure luck, a gift of God, a woman had said to him, but he had never given much credit to religion. 

“Do you think we'll find my mom in the hospital,” Shireen asks, snapping him out of his thoughts. 

“I don't know.” He sees no reason in lying to her.

“I think so,” she goes on. And somehow it’s fascinating to him, that she’s still able to remain so cheerful with everything around her. Maybe that's why he stays with her, because that's what he's missing, a healthy dose of optimism. “Maybe your people are in the hospital too?” 

“Maybe.” 

“Who are you looking for?” She starts to play with the hem of his shirt and he lets her.

“My girlfriend.” 

“Oh,” there Shireen looks up again, just to smile at him, with her eyes so bright that Gendry can't help but grin back a little himself. 

“What's her name?”

“Arya.” 

“Wow, that really is a beautiful name.” She rests her head on his shoulder and sighs softly. 

Gendry does the same. “Yeah,” he says, “it is.”

* * *

**ROBB**

_10:35 am_

  
  


He climbs back into the van, trying his best not to let his frustration show. But Dany's look, the question in her eyes and the last bit of hope that diminishes after each stop, allows nothing else. He takes back his seat beside her and shakes his head. “Nothing.”

It is like a flame that slowly grows smaller, the light in her eyes that goes out more and more every time he gives her this answer. After every hospital, after every list, she looks more defeated, paler, exhausted. Robb knows she believes it's her fault, the survivor's anguish. 

But in truth it is his, it was he who forced them all on this trip. If there's anyone to blame, it's him. “We still have one left.” 

She doesn't react, doesn't even flinch, her eyes kept on the road, so he does the same and stays quiet for the rest of the ride.

Broken trees and smashed houses scurry past them. Many people are still sitting by the road, injured, crying, covered in rubble and dirt, just like themselves. Two days ago at this time he'd still been in bed together with Theon, tangled in their sheet. But right now it seems like this has been another life.

He hears it before he sees it as they reach the hospital, the buzz of voices around them. Robb gets ready to say goodbye to Dany again, to tell her that he will come back as soon as possible, but she shakes her head.

“If he's not here, we don't have to look any further.”

So they set off together, him still in his swimming trunks, she wrapped in the blanket given to them the previous night. His hand is still throbbing, by now bandaged and in a sling around his neck, but he hardly feels the pain anymore. There are more important things that occupy the space in his mind. 

A huge knot of people has formed in front of the booths with the names, and where the last few times he has single-handedly pushed his way to the front to lose as little time as possible, now he hesitates. They get to the back of the line and wait with patience for their turn. 

A man is standing next to them, talking on the phone. And it stirs something, because he hasn’t even considered it, calling someone. But maybe, just maybe, this is another option.

“Excuse me, Sir,” Robb stumbles forward until he reaches the man. “I know we're certainly not the first to ask, and we'll make it quick I promise, but... would you mind? Just one call?”

The guy doesn't look the least bit pleased, Robb can feel how he's about to send them away every second. But then something flits across his face, sympathy perhaps, when he sees them both standing there like that. 

“Okay,” he says, and gives him the device, “but make it quick.”

“Thank you,” Robb breathes, “god, thank you so much.” Then he turns to Dany, while typing in the number. 

“Wouldn't you rather?” she asks, but he negates it.

“It's okay, I'll go check the list now.”

His hope is not very high anyway, Theon's battery is in fact almost always empty. But it gives her something to do and spares Robb the moment for them both to realize that Jon's name is not on any of the sheets.

To delay the moment himself, he starts at the back, looking for Waters first, but to his disappointment, he doesn't find him. He then moves on to S, looking for Stark before checking on Snow. Maybe Arya is here, maybe then Theon is too. 

Suddenly someone grabs his arm.

He turns around and finds the face of a woman he doesn't know. But she knows him from somewhere, or so it seems. “Are you Robb Stark?”

“Yes, yes I am.”

Her mouth breaks into a wide smile. “There's a man looking for you, here in the hospital. He ... oh crap, I don't know where he is, but yesterday he was still standing there in front of the entrance, showing everyone your picture.”

His heart skips a beat. “What did he look like?”

“He was tall, dark skin, had long black hair, probably your age, but I can't tell for sure.”

 _Theon_.

“Thank you, thank you so much!” He places a fierce kiss on her forehead and then storms out of the crowd, forgetting the list. “DANY! Dany, he’s here!”

When he arrives back at her side, she still has the phone in her hand. The call has obviously ended. But when she looks up at him, some light is back in her eyes.

* * *

**ARYA**

10:42 am

  
  


The way Theon’s holding himself up as he’s talking to the doctors, the way he keeps looking back at them every two seconds, shows her that something is wrong. He’s never been good at hiding his emotions and this here, is no exception. 

“It’s bad,” Jon rasps beside her, which finally makes her avert her gaze.

“No, it’s not.” Even if the way he looks makes it more than clear that it actually is.

He's far too pale, his eyes bloodshot, and she knows that if she lifts the blanket, inspects the wound on his chest, she'll find violent blood poisoning there. Not to mention what is probably still stuck in his lungs.

“Listen,” he starts, but is interrupted by a new coughing fit that leaves another spot of blood on the sheet. 

Still, it has something good, because it stopped him from saying what she didn’t want to hear, what she really can't have right now. “Don't do it,” Ayra sighs.

“Do what?”

“I know you were about to say goodbye, but don't.” 

Jon lets out something that could be a chuckle if it didn't make him cough again. After he calms down, he just lays there again and holds her hand. They stay like that until Theon’s back.

Both look up, not asking, just waiting for his explanation as he takes the chair on the other side of the bed. "They have to give you surgery."

She expected it, but still she tightens her hold on Jon’s hand, no chance to prevent it. “When?”

“As soon as possible,” Theon says and looks so defeated, “as soon as one of the surgeons is available, in an hour or two probably.” Then he says nothing more and none of them has anything to add as well. 

Minutes pass as they sit there in silence. Fortunately, Jon has been moved to a quieter part of the hospital, away from the chaos, where he can get some rest. Thus, the only sound that accompanies them is the ticking of the clock on the wall and the hum of the air conditioner.

Until finally Arya can't take it anymore. “I'm going to get some water.”

Though before she leaves, she exchanges another glance with Theon. Like she's asking a silent question if it’s alright, whether he's going to stay there and watch Jon. He nods then, small but there, so she lets go of the hand and gets up.

With no designation, she starts to wander around the hospital. Arya’s sure that Theon and Jon both know that it was just a lame excuse to escape. If only for a few minutes to clear her head, to get some fresh air.

She leans against the gallery railing and watches the activity in front of the building. There are still injured people coming in, but it is no longer as chaotic as yesterday, relatively organized, surprisingly.

Buzzing around like bees, there are so many different heads, colorful dots, that she almost misses him when he gets out of the car, a little girl on his shoulders. Arya blinks a few times, continues to watch him. He hands the girl to a nurse, turns back to the car. 

Just before he does so, he looks up. There his eyes find hers. 

The call of her name does not reach her, even if she recognized the word on his lips. And she tries with all her might to suppress the knot in her throat as she stumbles past the people, but when he finally wraps his arms around her, she cannot suppress the sob. 

He is warm and strong and alive and apparently not injured. And he holds her in a way that she'd never allow anyone else to do so. Protective, with her face buried in his chest and his lips on her hair. 

“It's okay, I'm here,” he whispers, and she can't help hitting his arm with her fist, without letting go. He accepts it without complaining.

Finally she looks up, finds his blue eyes open and full of relief, so she puts her hands around his face. It is a touch also to show her that it’s real, that he’s really here. And to make sure he's okay too. 

He seems to be, so she kisses him. 

As his lips rest on hers, it's like all the tension falls off her. It gets easier to bear the longer they remain like this. The worry about Jon is still there, but the day is suddenly better again, brighter.

As she finally leans back and takes in his sight, Gendry looks at her like he's thinking the same.

* * *

**THEON**

_10:57 am_

  
  


“Theon?” Jon’s voice sounds broken as he addresses him, so he raises his head from its position between his hands and pushes the respiratory mask aside first. He does it without thinking about it, just to make it easier for him to talk. 

He gets a small smile back. It may be the first time in his life that Jon Snow smiles at him, and he could cry at the thought.

“You must promise me something,” Jon goes on.

“Everything.”

“You have to find them, Dany and Robb. You... you have to tell Robb that he's the best brother... anyone could ask for, and Daenerys... that I love her.”

He is about to snap and tell him he can do it himself, but then decides against it. Now is not the moment. If it gives Jon peace, then so be it. “I will,” he says, “I promise.”

It seems to be all he has left to say to him. Clearly, as he lies back again and closes his eyes, returns the mask to its place above his nose himself. Theon has no choice but to continue to sit there, to continue to keep watch. Perhaps praying would be appropriate now. 

But the second he folds his hands and lowers his head, his phone starts buzzing in his pocket.

It is an unknown number. He picks up immediately. “Hello?”

“Theon?”

The chair tips backwards as he jumps to his feet. “Dany?” 

At that Jon's eyes snap open as well.

“Oh God Theon, I cannot believe it. Where are you? I'm at the front of the hospital in Khao Lak. Robb is –”

Then she is gone. 

“What? Robb is WHAT?” He looks back at his display and sees that it’s his own phone that conked out at the worst possible moment. But he knows one thing, she is here, she has news of Robb. He has to find her.

“Go,” Jon breathes and he doesn't have to tell him twice.

At first he just walks fast, but it's not long before he's running, running until his lungs are burning, past beds, past people, past nurses and doctors. His heart beats up to his ears as he searches, turning his head, looking for a mop of silver hair. Where is she?

He takes two steps at a time as he hurries down the stairs, out of the building, forward onto the street. But there are too many people here. He can't see her. 

“DANY?”

Again and again he calls her name while he keeps running. Sweat coates his back, but he has to keep going. 

Then he hears it, distant yet clear. “Theon, we’re here!”

He spins on his heels and there she is, wrapped in an old blanket, blood in her hair. She's not alone.

His leg seems to be injured, so he doesn't meet him much when Theon reaches him. Or better as he jumps against him with so much force that they crash hard against the car standing behind them. It's just as hard as their mouths colliding, kissing each other without a second thought about the air they might need to breathe. 

“I thought you were dead,” Theon sobs, as he keeps pressing his lips on Robb’s over and over again. Tears run down his cheeks as he continues to kiss him and then laughs and then kisses him some more. 

“I'm fine, we're fine.” Robb doesn't get much of a chance to talk himself as he presses his lips to Theon's, clinging to his shirt with such force. 

“You’re hurt.”

“Doesn't matter.”

And he's right. All that matters is that he's back. That they’re together again, that they’re saved. “I love you,” Theon says, one hand in his dirty curls, the other on his lower back, “gods, I love you so much.” 

They both know they should let go. They need to get back to Jon. But Theon can't, has to hold him, only a little longer. 

As he leans back, he sees two wet lines running from Robb's eyes through the dirt down to his chin. He shifts his hand, wiping them away with his thumb until Robb kisses his palm. His blue eyes are still shining. Despite all the dirt and blood he still looks so beautiful.

“Is this the wrong time to ask you to marry me?” Theon gasps. 

But instead of an answer he only gets a noise that sounds like a mixture of a sniffle and a laugh and then another one of his breathtaking kisses.

* * *

**JON**

_11:13 am_

“Jon?” 

There is a voice, warm and familiar, calling his name.

“Jon, love? Do you hear me?”

A hand touches his head, strokes gently over his hair. He blinks several times while trying to make out her features. But he is not sure if this is real or just the last sign that he has lost the battle.

“Am I dead?” he coughs but she shakes her head as tears start to fall down on his chest. 

“No, love, no you’re not,” Dany sniffles, her warm hand remaining on his head in the most protective way. 

And then his eyes widen as he realizes. Turning his head to the side, he spots Robb next to him, his arm in a sling, but smiling, reaching for his hand. “Hello little brother.” 

He's not even three months younger, and yet it's those words, ones that annoyed him so much as a child, that now bring him close to tears. Because he just can’t believe it. Theon's standing beside him, Arya behind, Gendry's arm around her shoulder. They are all there. 

“How?” 

Jon tries to reach for the mask that still covers his mouth, but he can barely lift his arm. He already needs all his energy just to look at them.

“It’s alright,” Dany whispers, helps him, “it’s alright.” 

The second it left his face, her lips are on his. Gentle and tender, so careful, as if she could break him with just the slightest bit of pressure. But still she’s there. She came back. “You came back.”

“Yes I did, of course I did.” She keeps kissing him, his forehead, his cheek, his mouth, over and over again. Litters him with her love and warmth. “I'm here, I'm not going anywhere.”

And she doesn't until someone comes to take him. 

He almost doesn't notice. Darkness accompanies him, the constant feeling as if he were losing his senses. He can hardly see, the sounds around him are only a confused hum. His body is weak, he feels almost nothing except the pain in his chest. 

And then he suddenly feels nothing at all. 

Only silence.

And darkness.

In the distance he hears the sound of the sea. Feels a salty breeze on his cheeks. 

But that’s it.

The next time Jon opens his eyes, they are no longer in the hospital. He no longer has a mask on his mouth and for the first time in a while he can see clearly again, is able to hear again what is happening around him. They are at the airport.

The others are around him, freed from dirt with clean clothes. When he wants to raise his hand, he notices that it's already held by something.

She did in fact not go anywhere. 

“Hello love,” Dany smiles, “how do you feel?”

“Better,” he says and means it. And after she leans down, kissing him the way she used to, Jon can’t help but return her grin. “And it's increasing.”

“Don't get cocky.” 

Her laughter is the most beautiful sound he has ever heard. And he is so grateful he can keep hearing it, now and many times more. He wants to tell her that, he wants to tell her everything he loves about her. 

But maybe it doesn't have to be now. 

Fortunately, he still has time.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank so much for reading, I hope you had fun with this! Any form of feedback is greatly appreciated; comments, kudos, an anonymous question on Tumblr or a dm, whatever you feel comfortable with. Or maybe you don't want to give any feedback at all, but donate a little something to the organizations that help people in these situations, because these guys are the real heros. ❤️


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